


hold fast

by pro_se



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Morning Routines, Other, Recovery, Teasing, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 20:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12755382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pro_se/pseuds/pro_se
Summary: Recent injuries require you to assist Shay with his morning routines.





	hold fast

As you enter the bedroom, Shay Cormac stops fumbling with his shirt buttons and pretends to find interest with the way light flickers past the half-drawn curtains. You stifle a sigh and set down the overcoat recently laundered from yesterday’s scuffle. The last he’d seen the jacket, it was covered in dust and gunpowder and blood. His fighting spirit had hardly been dampened, and you were responsible for nursing the fresh cuts on his knuckles.

You approach, though without judgement in your eyes, and gently pull him towards the window for better lighting. Your fingers make quick work of the cotton shirt and sleeves’ buttons. Shay murmurs thanks and you glance upwards.

“Missed a few spots while shaving, Shay.”

“What? Where?”

While you re-clean and prepare the razor and lather, Shay clumsily knots the cravat around his neck.

After his incident in the Atlantic oceans, Shay had been on the road to recovery. Then due to his carelessness and tendency to brawl and grapple with flair, he’d fractured the bones in his hands and lacked their prior dexterity and strength. The night he’d heard about the doctor’s recommendations to rest his hands, Shay had gone out and challenged every capable individual in the nearby tavern to an arm-wrestling match. He’d won all of them, of course, but the rest of the compound cracked down on his incaution.

Shay’s black eyes flick to the razor in your hands as you approach and tilt up his chin. His expression is not worried or uncomfortable; he trusts you. It’s quite an impressive feat for the recently turned Assassin. Then again, the two of you had stolen more kisses together than with anyone else. The relationship was infrequent but private; the volunteered aid was the business façade.

You casually ask, “How’d you find the shaving supplies? I didn’t think you had any more lather.”

“I didn’t, but then I mentioned it to William last night,” Shay murmurs, lazily tracking the razor as it slipped in and out of his line of vision. He closes his eyes as the blade audibly scrapes against his jugular. “Now, that is a man with impressive facial hair.” You agree, and stand back to assess your work. The razor clatters in the bowl with some finality, prompting Shay to towel off the remaining foam. “Steady hands.”

“Not with the way you picked a fight with thieves yesterday.”

“Well, damned if I was going to let them take all my coin,” he argues.

“You could have literally pointed a gun at them, Shay. And they would have fled with tails between their legs.” You take his hands and he winces with exaggeration as you gently examine them. “Oh, stop that. Do you need bandages?”

“No, I’ll be fine.” Shay squeezes your hands. Weak, but he’ll be back to full strength hopefully soon. The two of you rise from the bed, and you help Shay slip into the cleaned overcoat. He pulls on the gauntlets and gloves gingerly, then the sword and utility belt. The rifle and pistols, free of grime and slotted with new bullets, rest on the dresser. Shay checks them as usual and compliments your diligence.

Shay holsters the pistols and slips the rifle over his shoulder. “I’ll be late, so don’t stay up.” Both of you know that it’s a useless suggestion. Then Shay surprises you: “Would you like a kiss before I go?”

“A kiss?”

“Think it payment for helping me.”

You roll your eyes and smooth the front of his coat. Shay covers your hands with his; the dark gaze he gifts you is full of endearment. It’s almost unfamiliar, almost startling. You lick your lips and say instead, “At the rate you’re going, I’ll never be free from your stupidity. Try being less belligerent when you’re walking around.”

Despite the seriousness in your tone, his eyes crinkle in a smile and Shay steals a kiss from you anyways. “I will, I will. I promise.”

You fish a black ribbon from the dresser and card your hands through his long hair. He leans into your touch until you scold him; Shay satisfies himself by running his hands down your spine and rests them on your waist. “Do you have your ring?” you ask.

He doesn’t nod, but simply pats the coat pocket.

“A ring usually has a purpose in being worn.”

“Yeah? I never would have thought it.”

You finally step away and gently remove his gloved hands from your waist. “Time to go and risk your life for the Templar Order.”

Shay flashes a smile. “Sounds like even more of a reason to kiss you.” He takes your chin and pulls you down for another melting kiss; you find your hands wandering, too, this time to his hair where they long to unfasten the neat ribbon. Shay tastes like tea, and he breaks away with a sigh.

You study his face. “You’re exceptionally affectionate this morning.”

“Mmm. I just miss you, that’s all. You should come work with me on _The Morrigan_.”

“ _With_ you or _for_ you?”

“Both. Either. I don’t care.”

He surges in for another kiss, but you slip a finger against his lips to stall him. It’s past the time he should check in with the rest of the Templar Order. Your lace your words with sarcasm and sweetness. “I’ll ask our very favorite Grandmaster if he’ll part with me during the weekend. Surely, our romantic expeditions are more important than anything to Haytham Kenway.”

Shay’s eyes widen. “What an accusation. You know, I’m meant to report any delinquency among the ranks. Why don’t you come downstairs with me, and we’ll fix this disobedience right away.”

“God, does that sound tempting. Perhaps this weekend.” You tug Shay to his feet, and bat away his urgent kisses and smirking insinuations, before finally chasing him out of the bedroom.


End file.
